


Why We Need to Talk

by navaan



Category: Avengers (Comics), Iron Man (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Avengers Vol. 3 (1998), Avengers: Red Zone, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Iron Man Vol. 3 (1998), Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining, Self-Sacrificing Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-09-25 22:37:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17130008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/navaan/pseuds/navaan
Summary: After theRed Zoneincident, Steve's sure he and Tony need to talk. But as always with them too many things are going down at the same time.





	Why We Need to Talk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ishipallthings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishipallthings/gifts).



As usual with them, too many things happened at once. People expected Captain America to keep track and stay on top of the situation and he was doing his best to live up to expectations even when he was walking around the place with a cane. He was growing stronger by the minute, but not an hour ago, he’d been dying on the floor of a cell flooded with the Red Skulls pathogen – and some of his best friends were still being treated after the ordeal they'd been through. One of them was Sam Wilson, and Steve finally stepped into the room to make sure he was fine, even though his thoughts kept straying towards the ward where Tony was being treated.

Tony who had opened his impenetrable armor to give Steve CPR, infecting himself in the process.

Sam looked battered and tired, but he nodded at Steve when he entered the room. Red Wing was perched on the backrest watching the proceedings in the room nervously. By the way he eyed the nurses and the nurses were eyeing the bird, Steve could tell the Falcon had fought for his place above Sam's shoulder and won.

“How are you holding up, partner?”

“Banged up,” Sam muttered.

He had woken up slowly and now that he was awake put Steve’s mind at ease. When Steve had seen him hanging there, chained to that wall behind glass like bait on display, he had been sure Skull had killed him to get to Steve.

“How’s everyone else, Cap?”

“Some casualties from the early infections and…”

“I meant the others…” Sam tried to move his hand but let it sink back on the spread. “Black Panther and Iron Man and… you.”

He shrugged his shoulders. He was here, wasn’t he? Alive and well. His cheek still showed a hint of red and breathing deeply hurt, but apart from that and the cane he needed to get around, the super soldier serum had done what it had been designed to do and he would be better soon. That didn’t explain why his lips were still tingling or why every thought of _Iron Man_ let another flush enter his cheeks.

Tony had saved his life.

That wasn't _new_. 

Captain America and Iron Man had spent so many years in the field together as Avengers that it was hard to keep track of who had saved whom more times, who had taken a shot meant for the other more often. It was part of working in a team, and the two of them had always fallen into the easy partnership that allowed them to fight together like a well-oiled machine. (He was sure Tony would appreciate the comparison.)

Circumstances were different this time. Tony hadn’t thrown himself in front of Steve or pushed him out of the line of fire. No, this time Steve had been lured into a trap and infected by the Skull’s pathogen and while the respiratory failure had set in faster than the serum could catch up, and Tony had given him mouth to mouth to give him oxygen and make sure his heart kept beating long enough for his healing factor to kick in..

Mouth to mouth - when Tony would have been perfectly safe and unaffected even in his sabotaged armor.

_Captain America is more important than you._

That’s what Tony had said out loud. Convincing himself he needed to do this, that his life was worth less than Steve’s. The memory of the softly whispered words still sent a chill down Steve’s spine. At first, he hadn’t been sure he had heard them at all. He’d been dying and a little preoccupied with breathing. But he'd heard Iron Man crawl closer and he'd been aware at least on some level of what was going on.

All the while he'd thought: _At least Tony is safe in the armor. At least I won't take him down with me._ And then Tony had gone and done it.

Every time he focused on the memories they became clearer in his mind and more frightening. Tony had been prepared to die and it was lucky that he hadn’t.

“You’re not alright then,” Sam concluded when Steve failed to answer his question. He'd been sidetracked by his own complex thoughts and the worry that clawed at his insides like a wild animal that wanted to break out of a cage.

“I’m fine. T’Challa took care of business. He’s unaffected. And Tony’s condition is stable…” Steve had looked in on him only once because he had a feeling that next time he made his way to Tony's room he would not be moved to leave it again. At the time his face had been obscured by a respirator mask and as far as Seve had been told, not breathing on his own. T’Challa had stood by and said gruffly. “I’ll stay here. Go look after Falcon. I have to speak with Stark when he wakes up.”

The Panther and Tony must have found some common ground in the chaos. Steve hadn’t asked. What he had thought was: _You and me both._

“I didn't know Stark was that kind of guy,” Sam huffed.

Steve's head snapped up, too caught up in his own complicated feelings at the moment to make sense of much of anything. “What?”

“He would have died for you in there, because we needed you. That’s not what I expected of someone like him..”

His fingers twitched and he closed them into a fist to stop it. “You don't know him like I do, Sam.”

“Everyone knows you and Iron Man are tight. Just, that he's Tony Stark is what’s...”

“He's something,” Steve said and the rough edge in his words wasn't all from worry. He _needed_ Tony to be alright. He needed to tell Tony that he didn't want him to ever think Steve's life meant more than his own. Because everyone who had known Iron Man _or_ Tony knew how ready the man was to lay down his own life when he thought the stakes were asking for it. As Iron Man, he was one of their most valuable assets and strongest fighters, but without the armor, Tony was a man without superpowers – one who lived with a mechanical heart these days.

Feeling the urge to run out and look for Tony, make sure he was, in fact, safe, rose to new heights. “Someone needs to make sure his armor's safe,” he said, absentmindedly.

Sam's raised eyebrow wasn't lost on him. “I'm fine now, Steve. I'll be discharged as soon as I've been debriefed and rest at home. Go, see Stark.”

“Yeah,” he said and nodded. “Let me know if you need anything.” He walked out, but his steps took him down to reception. He wanted to get a grip on himself before he laid it all on Tony.

He found Wanda leaning on Carol. They were obviously on their way out.

“Cap,” Carol greeted. “You're up?”

“Did the doctors give you the all clear?” 

Wanda looked pale, and she held on to Carol as if she was afraid to fall. “Tony's doctors did and I didn't let any of the SHIELD ones contradict them.”

Steve nodded. The facility was a Stark funded hospital and despite governmental interest in the proceedings, the doctors who developed the antidote had taken charge. For the time being, until Tony was well, T’Challa was calling the shots here.

“When you get to the mansion, can you make sure someone gets Tony the things he might need here?”

Carol gave Steve a pitying look. 

Did they know? Did they know that Tony was where he was because he had saved Steve? Did they know why he was wandering the halls instead of upstairs watching how Tony was doing?

He knew why he was avoiding it. The urgent whisper of Tony's voice still rang in his ears and the memory of his pale face with terrible red eating at the skin was edged into his mind. What if help had come too late for Tony?

“Ms. Potts already came by. She left a bag down here,” Carol suggested.

Of course.

He should have thought of that.

Tony's people had been the ones alerting the Avengers to the disappearance of Iron Man and the Black Panther and had coordinated the search for an anti-serum. Tony’s assistant must have been in contact the whole time.

A nurse handed him the bag and he threw a quick look at the things inside. Pajamas, a silken dressing gown, the bare necessities.

He carried it up and found Tony propped up in his cushions, a tablet in front of him.

“You shouldn't be working,” Steve said and stepped towards the bed to hand over the bag.

“Thank you,” Tony said, reaching up to take it and then smiled at him, smile bright and without any regret.

Steve's heart beat faster, his eyes, involuntarily tracing the line of Tony's very kissable lips.

_He's your best friend, you idiot, he doesn't want to kiss you. He wanted you to breathe. Get a grip._

He cleared his throat. It was important that he kept it together.

“Dell Rusk, I mean we all never liked him, but I didn't suspect... Red Skull. It’s so obvious now. How are you, Steve? Are you alright? ” Just as Tony was asking his eyes fell on the cane that Steve was still using to keep himself from limping.

“Me?” Steve asked back. “What about you? You nearly died.”

“You were dying,” Tony shot back.

“I would have pulled through. We should really talk about that.”

For a moment they stared at each other, Tony looking up at him with pale cheeks and red-rimmed eyes. “We should perhaps, yes,” he conceded but looked uneasy. His face turned to the words he’d just typed. “Right now my head is swimming, but this can't wait...”

“It can wait,” Steve said softly and pulled the tablet from Tony's grasp gently. “Get some rest. Let T'Challa and me worry about the quarantine and distribution of antidote. Alright?”

That Tony let it happen without a fight only confirmed Steve's suspicion that he was exhausted and shouldn't be working. He put the cane aside to help Tony settle down.

“Anyone we should call?”

“Call?” Tony asked.

Steve was thinking about Ms. Fujikawa. While Tony hadn't said anything, Steve had read about their second attempt at a relationship from the papers. Since Tony had revealed his hero identity he had become even more of a celebrity and the papers took note of every person he was seen with.

“Anyone you want here?” he elaborated.

“You're here,” Tony said, confused. Then he seemed to get the meaning. “No, it's fine. Nobody to call.”

“Okay, we'll talk when you wake up again,” Steve suggested and quickly squeezed Tony's fingers. The confused flutter of his own heart only fueled his determination. They needed to talk. Tony had to take better care of himself in the future. Because what was Steve going to do with himself if anything happened to him?

* * *

By the time he returned to Tony's hospital room to talk, Tony had discharged himself and was back at work.

Not one to cry over missed opportunities even when worry lingered like a block of ice in the cold, Steve decided to talk to Tony at the next Avengers meeting.

He left Tony a message and got an answer within a minute: “We'll talk, Winghead. I promise.”

* * *

Before the next Avengers meeting came around, Steve found himself with a new challenge. The news that Tony had been shot in the street came minutes before he learned that he had barely survived the surgery.

The SHIELD report that had been passed to him by Nick Fury stated Tony had taken a bullet for his longtime employee and friend Happy Hogan, who had also been shot.

“Someone put a hit out on Tony? Now? Do they know who they are gunning for?”

“Yes, but they got the wrong guy first.”

“Where was the armor?”

Nick shrugged. “He can't be in the suit 24/7. It was there in time to save their asses. Perhaps you should tell him to be more careful because he's not going to listen to me.”

The ice block of worry he'd been carrying around in his stomach was turning into granite. “Do you think he's getting... reckless?”

He wanted an honest opinion because he knew that he had lost all objectivity when it came to Tony. It had been weeks now, and yet he could still feel the soft touch of dry lips brush against his every time he thought of what he wanted to say to Tony when they met next.

“He's public now, Rogers. Think about what that meant for you. Enemies are coming out of the woodwork. Have you seen the news lately? They are calling him in for questioning in the Chinese Embassy bombing. Someone is trying to implicate him and they are doing a damn good job.”

“I follow the papers,” he said roughly, aware of the details as they’d been reported. He would've preferred to hear about it from Tony, but he also knew he had no right to be included in his friend's private business. Steve hadn't included Tony in his own rough patches when he had a choice. A Stark designed weapon had been used in the bombing and now Tony – yesterday the hero everyone loved and looked up too – faced new accusations every day. With a heavy heart, Steve went back to scanning the file.

Nick shrugged. “It's none of my business, really, but I would want to know if someone tried to kill a fellow Agent and then sent someone to finish the job with poison.”

He had just reached _that_ part in the document and balled his fists. Someone had tried to poison Tony in his hospital bed.

“Is he alright?”

“Turns out he's made of sturdier stuff then I knew,” Nick said with a shrug as if someone trying to poison an Avenger was nothing. Steve looked for more information on how Tony had escaped and added it to the list of things to ask Tony about.

Perhaps it was time to talk to Tony, explain to him why Steve was worried about his self-sacrificial tendencies. He could go to the hospital and make him talk.

But before he'd even made up his mind, Tony was on the run, accused of selling military secrets to North Korea. An official missive from the oval office advised the Avengers to either hunt Iron Man down or keep out of it.

“Oh god, Tony,” Steve whispered. “I'm an idiot.”

Not for a moment did he believe any of the accusations, but he could see now that he shouldn't have waited for a convenient time to talk.

* * *

“Steve!” Tony's head snapped up the moment Steve stepped into another hospital room. He’d washed his name clean of any lingering doubt, but had been nearly killed by the current owner of the Mandarin rings. Steve was still not sure of all details but it seemed both men had been manipulated towards what should have been a final confrontation. “What are you doing here? You're no longer with SHIELD.”

“I'm here to pick you up,” he explained and nodded at Fury. “Nick told me where you were recuperating.”

“Oh,” Tony said softly as if even the thought of Steve being here had knocked the breath out of him. He let Steve help him out of the wheelchair and lead him forward. “I'm okay. There's no need to worry.”

“There is,” Steve disagreed and helped Tony to walk towards the car. “You came close to dying three times in a little over a month. I'm making sure you're breaking that habit.”

“We're Avengers, Steve. We do this all the time.”

Steve shook his head when Tony started walking towards the parking lot. He had brought a flying car, courtesy of SHIELD. He wanted Tony somewhere safe where they could talk. “We still need to talk,” he reminded Tony and Tony shrugged, face suddenly resigned.

The flight over to the Avenger's home was quiet.

He set the car down on the front lawn carelessly and helped Tony walk inside.

“I'm not an invalid,” Tony complained. “I've been discharged.”

“Your heart was about to give out.”

“My heart is a piece of highclass engineering. It's taken care of.”

When they were inside the house Steve felt an immediate rush of relief. Home meant safety. “You were dying,” he said, raising his voice slightly. “And not for the first time. What was that back with the pathogen? We need to talk about the way you –”

Tony's eyes narrowed and his voice turned so neutral and business-like that Steve felt his hackles rise until the words sank in: “I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable.”

“Uncomfortable? You saved my life, Tony. You opened your helmet and risked your own life to save me!”

“You had stopped breathing.”

“You were _safe_ in the armor.”

“The armor was down. I was no _use_ in that armor.”

“So you chose to get infected! I'm a super soldier, Tony, the serum would have saved me.”

It was rare, but the common room was empty. Nobody was around to hear them arguing.

“That’s what has you in a twist? You had stopped breathing. You were _dying_. Don't tell me you wouldn't have done the same for any of us!”

“You said I was more important than you,” Steve said and saw surprise flash through Tony's eyes before he hid it behind a mask that was more impenetrable than Iron Man's. The memory still sent a shiver down Steve's back though and he pressed on: “I heard you. Don't deny it. Do you really believe that?”

“Steve,” Tony said and his face had no right to be so calm. “Of course, I do.”

The conviction that swung through the statement was _terrible_ , terrifying. “How can you say that? What do you think we would do without you? We need you, Tony! You...”

“Look, Steve,” Tony interrupted and bit his lip, “I'm sorry. Everyone knows what I think of you. It's been obvious for a while and I'm extremely bad at hiding that you – Never mind, you don't want to hear it. Is it the mouth to mouth that makes you so uncomfortable? I’m sorry. We can pretend it never happened if that makes it easier?”

He didn't believe his ears. Too many emotions wanted to break free at the same time. He huffed, grabbed Tony by the arm before his friend could run away. “Next time your lips brush against mine I want you to not be dying, okay?” he growled.

Tony's eyes widened. “Next time?”

The way his lips parted was the perfect invitation. Steve wrapped Tony in his arms, pulled him close before he could come to his senses and run, and kissed him. He hadn't planned it, hadn't ever thought he would close this final gap between them, but everything in him had yearned for it. Tony reacted immediately and without hesitation. There was the same fiery need in him and Steve's recognized it, rose to the new challenge.

It was so different from the clinical brush of lips during the mouth-to-mouth.

“I've wanted to do that for a while,” he admitted when he finally pulled back long enough to look at Tony and found Tony's gaze was filled with surprise and doubt.

“You're sure? No mind control? No love spells? Because if this isn't real then it's going to kill me.”

He growled. “You are not going to die if I have anything to say about it.”

Roughly he grabbed Tony's shoulders and pulled him into another hug.

They stood like that in the hallway, leaning against the wall until their breathing had calmed down. But why? There was no need. It had all been revealed finally and in a rush of worry and fierceness. He leaned down to kiss Tony, softer this time.

Tony brushed his lips against Steve’s in a gentle touch, let his hand wander up from the nape of his neck into his hair to direct him.

“We should move this upstairs to a room where we can –” Tony whispered through a panting moan.

“Talk more.” He nipped the skin of Tony's throat, just below his ear.

“ _Yes_ ,” Tony hissed in pleasure, “talk all you want.”

“Music to my ears,” he said filing this away for later. Right now even he had to admit that talking was the furthest from his mind.

He laced his fingers with Tony's and led him up the stairs. So much lost time to make up for.


End file.
